


Mass Effect Drabbles

by Joomju



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 20:16:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13131354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joomju/pseuds/Joomju





	1. Chapter 1

They’re on Omega, and while Miranda bitches about this being the armpit of the universe, Shepard keeps her peace. Yes, the place is crawling with vorcha and batarians, the gangs aren’t subtle about their turf markings, and locals couldn’t care less about the very best of humanity come to visit them. But at the end of the day, it’s just another slum. Just another way of life, with just another set of customs built up to fill in the blanks left behind by corrupt law enforcement and a negligent government bureaucracy. 

Poverty is poverty everywhere, the locals just cope with it differently. 

Shepard keeps gun hand ready and goes hunting for a doctor and an archangel.


	2. Chapter 2

They’re in the middle of the station environmental systems when Shepard looks over at Miranda and the thought sideswipes her as surely as any krogan charge.

_Good god, she’s a civilian._

They air is stale in a way it never should be on a station, threading every interaction with an ominous sense of not-quite-right. The stench of incinerated vorcha mingles with the musk of a krogan who’s had his hump ripped open by a shotgun and for one split second, Miranda’s face is contorted by the horror of where she is, what she’s doing, what she’s about to do. It’s the look of a civilian on the battlefield for the first time, of a marine finding out the difference between target practice and live fire. 

Miranda, to her credit, processes quickly. The look is gone almost as quickly as it came. Her face settles into a calm mask of stoicism, and whether she’s decided to deal with this later or never deal with it at all doesn’t matter: she’s ready to face whatever’s next. She looks to her commander for the next orders. 

Shepard pauses, raises an eyebrow. _You ready?_

Miranda doesn’t acknowledge whatever internal struggle might have occurred. She juts her chin minutely in Shepard’s direction. _Ready when you are._

Shepard maintains eye contact, and gives her a small head nod in return. _If you say so. I trust you._

One soldier to another.


End file.
